


Like a Phoenix

by platypusesrneat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Burns, Crying, Good Peter, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Werecreature Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platypusesrneat/pseuds/platypusesrneat
Summary: Stiles jumps into the line of fire and nearly dies. Peter is there to tell him how much he cares.





	Like a Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> I'm procrastinating. Help.

“Stiles!”

He hits the ground with a grunt, flames enveloping him in a flash of bright orange in the dark night.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know the risk of stepping between Peter and the witch--he knew better than most what a witch is capable of.

It was that for _Peter_ , fire was so much more than simply flames. Fire holds past trauma Stiles can only imagine, and to trigger him like that? He just couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t, not when this time there’s something he can do.

So yeah, he took the blow.

 _Maybe I’m selfish,_ he thinks while he screams, _because now you’re going to lose me too._

“l’m sorry.”

* * *

 

He comes to roaring; a phoenix from the ashes. There’s a hand cradling his, and when his eyes pop open (from caramel to gold, more beautiful than any eyes should have the right to be), there are teary blue ones staring straight back.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Peter chokes out, and then there’s strong arms around him.

He’s safe. Peter is safe. No one died.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

But then he sees his reflection in a mirror over Peter’s shoulder, and he stiffens. Peter notices and pulls back, concern apparent.

“Stiles?”

Fresh tears start rolling down his cheeks, and he covers his face with both hands. This can’t be happening. What kind of sick joke is this?

“Stiles, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me.”

But he can’t. Not when all he can see are the scars now made permanent down his face. He was never beautiful, he knows, and now? Now Stiles will never be worthy to be by Peter’s side.

When he pulls away his hands, though, he doesn’t see an ounce of disgust on Peter’s face. Instead there’s a mixture of concern and adoration, plainly written upon his boyfriend’s usually cryptic face. All for him, despite what he looks like.

It gives him the courage to speak.

“You...You don’t think I’m ugly,” he croaks.

Peter leans forward and kisses down his face, mapping each scar with a gentleness Stiles has never seen from him before.

“Never. You did a stupid, brave thing for me, and are all the more attractive because of it. When I--”

Peter drops his eyes, moving back and grasps both of Stiles’s hands in his.

“When I woke from the coma, my family was gone, as were my looks and sanity. The only things of true value I had, disappeared without a trace. Every look in the mirror reminded me of what I’d lost, and drove me more into madness. I don’t want you to suffer like that.”

And when Peter said it like that?

It made Stiles proud to wear his scars.

“You’re a beautiful wolf, and no amount of scars can change that. I was never with you because of your looks anyways. It was your intelligence and stupid amount of loyalty that made me fall head over tail.”

Stiles snickers a bit, which makes Peter’s mouth twitch upwards.

“I love you, Stiles.”

His snickers cut off into a surprised gasp. Peter hadn’t said that before.

“I mean it--”

Stiles practically tackles him into a kiss, tears flowing free once more.

“I love you too, jerk,” he confesses.

They’ll be fine now. They both knew it.


End file.
